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The ghost under my bed

This ghost, it sleeps under my bed. Sometimes under me, over me and in me.

When he is awake, he delves in most of my nights and devours the energy I muster.

He lingers and follows, he morphs into different shapes.

A possessive and jealous ghost he is, even when I form an ounce of smile for something he makes sure I never forget him.

It would sit on my shoulders and eat on my hair, it would grow heavier on my wings!

and even then, I came to find comfort and companionship in this lost ghost.

I don’t remember when or how we met, but he’s been here for so long I don’t know what’s left of me without him

It stays, it weeps and wraps its arms around me.

I am terrified of ghosts and this one looks a lot like me. It sleeps on my bed. At times over me, under me, and in me.


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